Clara stood at the window of her office that overlooked the docking bay of Starbase 72, hands folded behind her back. She had just returned from the briefing with Starfleet Command over the growing situation in the former DMZ. She was one of a dwindling number of Starfleet officers who remembered the celebration when the DMZ was established in 2370. It was supposed to be the grand solution to a border crisis that had gone on for nearly 20 years; the end of a conflict that began before she even set foot at Starfleet Academy.

It lasted 3 years before the Dominion swept in and seized control. Truthfully, it was never a great answer. From the very start, the DMZ was riddled with fighting on a smaller scale. The governments could officially wash their hands of it, call it a win, and move on.  The Federation had done little beyond condemn the Maquis and push them further down the rabbit hole of terrorism. She remembered when she was a science officer on the Washington when it was deployed to the DMZ border after reports of Maquis activity. It didn’t take long before the real reason they were there was revealed: Starfleet Command wanted to know what, if anything, the Cardassians were up to and if they snagged a few Maquis then so be it. 

Then the war happened and the Treaty of Bajor dumped the entire DMZ back to Federation control. Then Mars happened. Then the Romulan supernova. Then Frontier Day. Decades of tragedy, decades of the Federation pulling inward and ignoring the growing crisis around them. Now they found themselves back in the 2370s with the former DMZ a hotbed of activity and over 5,000 men, women, and children dead. Not to mention the Klingon Empire being ready to throw itself off the cliff of war. 

Over and over and over the crises played out. Ever since the Dominion War, it seemed like very little changed; Starfleet and the Federation were almost ignorant of the consequences of their actions. So much of her was ready to be done with all of it. She had given nearly half a century of service to Starfleet. She had been so close to walking away until they dangled that damn ‘carrot’ in front of her. 

A Galaxy Class starship. Not just any Galaxy Class but the USS Galaxy herself.  Typically she’d have little to no chance of being assigned to a Galaxy Class, even with her 40+ years of service and exploration background, but the sheer number of senior officers that had been killed or chose to retire pushed her into contention. It also helped that Starfleet Command had caught wind of her intention to resign thanks to some loose lips among her friends and opted to make a ‘final’ offer to keep her in the service.

A soft chime interrupted her thoughts. “Enter.” She turned to face the door, the tall figure of Commander Geden Demar walking through. Over the last few months, he’d allowed his brown hair to grow longer and kept a slight 5 o’clock shadow along his jawline. It suited him quite well, not that she’d ever tell him that considering she was over 20 years his senior. She did make a mental note to try and be around when Conklin saw Demar’s new look; if money had still existed, she’d make a bet that Conklin would trip over his words at least three times. He’d mentioned more than a few times that long hair and scruff was his weakness.

“Geden.” Clara spoke warmly. “Please, have a seat.” She pulled out the chair behind her desk, sitting and folding her hands across the glass top. “It’s been weeks since we spoke last, how are you?”

Geden pulled his chair out and sat down, awkwardly trying to place his arms somewhere that looked casual. “I am well, thank you.” He’d been dreading this moment for weeks; he knew what was coming—yet another reassignment. He’d had his last chance on the Amundsen and that had gone belly up and now he’d get to go to some backwater Class D planet and study rocks. He’d be nothing more than a small footnote in the history of the Demar symbiont because he’d fucked up one too many times. 

Clara gave him a soft smile; the tension on his face was more than evident. She wasn’t sure what the source was, but it wasn’t like this was anything new for her interactions with the man. “I’m happy to hear that Commander. It’s been a rough period for us and the fleet.”

The Trill nodded. “Aye ma’am, it has.”

Clara leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I take it word has reached you that the Amundsen is going to be tied up in drydock long enough to warrant reassignments?”

Geden gave the woman a half nod. “Not officially, no, but it wasn’t hard to come to that conclusion.”

“I see.” She pulled a PADD out of the desk drawer, softly sitting it in front of him. “Those would be your new orders, Commander. After everything we dealt with on Beol II, I felt it only right I deliver the news to the senior staff personally.”

Geden picked up the PADD with a sharp inhale, pressing his thumb to the cold screen to authenticate. He watched as the Starfleet logo popped up on the screen with its usual flourish before it began to fade away and text filled the screen. Nearly all of it was the superfluous pomp that Starfleet but after a few seconds he got to the official orders. His head cocked the side a little, confusion crossing his face before he looked back up at Myers, a wide smile on her face. “Ma’am?”

“It’s all there. By order of Starfleet Command, you are to assume the executive officer’s position aboard the USS Galaxy tomorrow morning at 0800.” She pulled out a stack of PADDs. “I have orders for the entire senior staff of the Amundsen, plus orders for a few new faces.”

The confusion did not leave the Trill’s face. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. I nearly caused the T’Kon virus on Beol II to assume control of the backup computer core, stranding us there even longer. I barely was able to serve as a science officer, much less an executive officer. I snapped at Commander Conklin; I was far from my best. My understanding was that any amount of poor performance would see me removed from my position.”

Clara arched an eyebrow, a look of confusion now forming on her face as well. “We were in a difficult position and none of us had served with each other before, minus Commander Conklin and myself. I don’t demand nor expect perfection Mr. Demar. I expect you to act like a Starfleet officer, and you did so, in spades. It didn’t go unnoticed when you injected a little confidence in Ensign Erith before the Jem’Hadar attack. You oversaw the successful evacuation of the Amundsen. As for you and Commander Conklin, he mentioned nothing to me except that your help was key.” That was a small lie, Alex had gone on for a few minutes too long about how prickly Demar had been during their interactions; though prickly was not the word Alex had used. “He did mention you owe him a drink, but that’s not an order I can give you.”

Geden let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. “Thank you, ma’am. I…” he paused, trying to find the words. “I will do my best to not squander the trust you have placed in me.”

Clara nodded. “That’s all I ask, Commander. Now, let’s get down to business.”

Geden watched as she pulled another PADD out of the desk drawer that seemed to hold an endless supply of them. “Do we already have our first assignment?”

“In a way.” She handed him the PADD. “We’ve been ordered to conduct a shakedown cruise near the former DMZ.”

“The DMZ?” Confusion was evident in his voice. “That’s an odd location for a shakedown cruise.”

“It’s is but this is less a shakedown cruise a more a show the flag and gather intel mission. Officially, we will not be on patrol but simply testing systems in open space that happens to be close to the Cardassian border. Starfleet Command is worried that a Galaxy Class ship being officially deployed so close to the border will be considered an escalation.” It was semantics. She knew it, Demar knew it, the Cardassians knew it, and so did the True Way and New Maquis. It was another maneuver in the delicate dance that was diplomacy along the border right now.

Geden turned his head to the side, eyes widening. “If that’s what Starfleet wants to call it then I’ll play along.”

“With the destruction of C-91 and the death of so many, Starfleet is damn near desperate to contain the situation. We know there is little appetite for a direct war in the Union itself so we are confident they are funding the True Way behind the scenes and they accuse the same of us when it comes to the Maquis.” Clara shook her head. “It’s a damn mess that’s been deposited right on our doorstep.”

Geden shifted in his seat. “Do you think the Union is funding the True Way behind the scenes? That’s bold, even for them.”

Clara shrugged. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility but neither side can afford a war. Everyone knows it. We’re weakened from Frontier Day and the Union is likely loath to unite the races of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants against them again, especially since the Klingons are in chaos and eager for a little conquest. I’m not privy to details but it sounds like the political situation in the Union is unstable and complicated, like always it seems, but we’re the bad guys again.”

Geden shook his head. In the wake of the Mars attack, they all but abandoned the worlds at the edges of the Federation. It wasn’t shocking that the citizens of the former DMZ had little love for the status quo right now, not to mention how the Federation had withdrawn aid to Cardassia in 2385 had won them few friends in the Union. “You won’t hear me say it in the halls of Starfleet Command, but I don’t blame any of them for how they feel. We left them behind.”

“You are not wrong, Commander.” She shared the sentiment and was rather relieved to hear he left the same way. She’d heard far too much saber rattling and disparaging remarks from those in charge. Thankfully they were fewer in numbers these days. “So, for right now, our job is to try had help keep this powderkeg from blowing. Hopefully, things will settle down and we can get around to our true purpose, deep space exploration.”

Geden allowed himself a small smile. “I can’t say I’d argue against another round of 5-year missions.”

Clara stood, gathering up the PADDs on her desk. “Then let’s get to work, Commander.”

“Does anyone know why we’re stuck in this tiny room?”

Gavarin Brex glanced over his shoulder at Dr. V’Rel. It would have been easy to pick up on her irritation even if he wasn’t Betazoid. She did have a point though; he wasn’t sure what was going on but it was easy to assume it had to do with their new assignment. He was rather surprised that they had been assigned back to the same ship again. The Amadunsen was still stuck in the San Francisco Fleet Yards waiting for final repairs, so he assumed they’d all get their various assignments and never see each other again. Long-term crews often got reassigned together but one that had served together for barely a month? That was a rarity. He’d spent the last few months at home, on Betazed, with his family, taking advantage of Starfleet relaxing shore leave rules in the aftermath of Frontier Day. There were a lot of officers who didn’t get the luxury of extra time off but with his last assignment stuck in drydock, they didn’t argue with his request for extended leave. It had been difficult to come back, his little girl was growing up so fast and between the Lost Fleet and Frontier Day, it was a reminder of how precious little time there was these days but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from the Fleet, not now. More than ever they needed good people serving Starfleet.

“Evidence would indicate that this has something to do with our new posting.” Lieutenant Commander T’Keu rose from her chair and walked towards the blacked-out window, pressing the control panel next to it to remove the tint. It simply let out an angry honk to indicate the controls were locked. “It would seem this is a surprise.” She did little to hide the disdain in her voice when she spoke the word surprise.

Commander Alexander Conklin pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. “I’ve served with Captain Myers for nearly a decade, she isn’t exactly the surprise party type.” He brushed the dirty blonde hair out of his eyes; over the last several months he’d allowed it to grow significantly longer, now reaching his shoulders if he didn’t put it up. It was within regulation. Technically. “But, you know, maybe she was feeling feisty today. At least we aren’t being woken up in the middle of the night this time.”

V’Rel let out a grumble. “I knew I should have retired before all this started, but now they keep feeding me crap about ‘the shortage of personnel’ and ‘we need your experience.’ I’m a doctor, not a theoretical warp physicist. It’s not hard to replace me. Just teach these new kids to use a laser scalpel and let me retire.”

A half smile crossed Brex’s face. “To be honest doctor, I feel more comfortable with you wielding the laser scalpel. I’m worried some of these new Ensigns wouldn’t even be able to find my liver.”

V’Rel waved a hand in the air, dismissing the comment. “It’s not that hard. Most livers are in the same general location on humanoids, you just have to remember which species have two and which ones don’t have a liver.”

Brex rubbed his upper abdomen with a slight grimace on his face. “I’d still prefer to be in your capable hands doc. ”

V’Rel’s only response was (yet another) grumble.

Alex traced a hand along the edge of the table idly. “We’re missing a few people. Broheth, Erith, and Demar. I didn’t see them listed on the communication.”

T’Keu arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps they declined to be reassigned or resigned? Considering the circumstances Starfleet had found itself in as of late, many officers chose that path. Or perhaps Ensign Erith is still dealing with the aftereffects of his assimilation?”

An uneasy silence made its way through the room. Nobody had heard anything from or about Erith, not that they expected to. Nobody in the room had met each other before they all got tossed onto the same ship and trapped on Beol II. The experience had bonded them, to an extent anyway, but trauma bonding only went so far. The truth was none of them had spoken to each other besides a couple of messages from Brex asking how they were.

Alex cleared his throat softly. “Regardless, I hope he’s doing well. Seemed like a good kid.” He glanced up at the chronometer on the wall. “I guess we’ll find out in a moment, Captain Myers isn’t the type to be late.

The chronometer ticked over from 13:59 to 14:00 and as if on cue the door to the room opened with a soft hiss, Captain Clara Myers walked in, multiple PADDs in hand, Commander Demar right behind her.

Alex smiled, standing up a bit straighter at her entrance. “Good afternoon Captain.” It wasn’t difficult to spot Commander Demar standing behind her considering he was a good nine inches taller than she was. He felt his face flush as he looked over the Captain’s head at Demar; the last few months had been kind to the man, at least in the looks department. Realizing he was blatantly staring, he quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat. “Good morning to you as well, Commander.”

Had Demar noticed the Conklin eyeing him he didn’t show any indication; Conklin let out a small sigh of relief.

“Good afternoon everyone.” Clara began. “I appreciate you all taking the time to indulge me in this. I realize it would be easier to just send you a message with orders but I felt, after everything we’ve been through, it would be nice to gather again.” Clara moved over to the window, finger hovering over the panel next to the window.

“As many of you can surmise by now the Amundsen is still tied up in repairs at the fleet yards and will be for some time. The damage she sustained was extensive and there is still a large backlog from the Frontier Day attack so the ship won’t be ready to deploy for quite a while. As such, Starfleet has seen fit to give us a new assignment.”

She tapped a few commands into the panel and the tint on the window began to fade; outside the window work bees and shuttles zipped to and fro but docked in the closest berth was the large Galaxy Class starship. Clara had coordinated with Broheth and Commander Vale to get the warp core powered up and online before the meeting, lights gleaming across the hull and her nacelles shining a bright blue.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our new home away from home, the USS Galaxy.”

Brex took a step forward, letting out a soft whistle. “Now that is one beautiful ship. They don’t make them like that anymore. And the original one? Doesn’t get much more special than that.”

T’Keu took a step forward, hands behind her back. “The tactical superiority of a Galaxy Class ship is often unmatched, even after nearly 50 years in service. It is an agreeable assignment.”

A grin spread across Alex’s face, reminding Clara of a kid in a candy shop. “They don’t keep the Galaxys in local space that often; does this mean Starfleet is opening up deep space missions again?”

A smile spread across Clara’s face. “It’s in the cards, yes. We’ve got some fires to put out along the Cardassian border, but Starfleet made it clear that the Galaxy’s primary mission will be deep space exploration. Clara glanced out the window. ”I requested that this crew remain together; our time on the Amundsen was short but what I saw convinced me that, with time, we’ll serve the ship well.”

Demar took the PADD’s from Clara and began to hand them out to the assembled staff. “You will find your formal orders on these along with new staff lists for your respective departments. Please review them carefully; we’ll be starting with around 850 crew through our shakedown. It’s a stark increase from the 90 or so we had on the Amundsen so most of your staff will be new to you and, due to current staffing circumstances, new to the fleet as well. Please do your best to help them adjust. Being on a Galaxy can be pretty intimidating to officers fresh out of the Academy.” He handed the last PADD to Conklin and stepped back towards the wall.

V’Rel stuck the PADD in her coat without so much as a glance. “Ignoring the fact I specifically asked for a smaller ship and that.” She pointed a finger at the gleaming ship out of the window. “Is anything but small, I want to know, is it just us or did you invite Broheth and Erith to our little party?”

Clara chuckled softly. Considering V’Rel’s reputation, if that was the worst reaction she had, Clara would consider it a victory. “Lieutenant Commander Broheth is already on Galaxy assisting Commander Vane with the departure checklist.” She paused for a moment. Technically her request for Erith hadn’t been approved; Starfleet still had concerns about his mental state post-assimilation. Erith wasn’t alone in that; dozens upon dozens of officers were still in deep counseling following what happened on Frontier Day. With a compliment of nearly 1,000 and the expectation that the ship would be in deep space for years at a time she was required to staff a counselor on the ship. She had specifically requested one versed in PTSD and trauma response and if Starfleet gave her one, she could get Erith back. “Ensign Erith will be joining us at a later date but I’m told he’ll be here before we depart.”

It was a very basic, diplomatic, statement that fooled nobody in the room but no one bothered to challenge it. 

“When do we leave?” Asked Brex, doing his best to change the subject.

“In four days.” Responded Clara. “We have a few weeks of various shakedown testing then we’ll assume patrol duties in the former DMZ.”

“Four days?” V’Rel grumbled. “Glad I learned to travel light a few decades ago.”

Clara didn’t bother to hide the small smile on her face. “You learned that a little sooner than I did, commander. Any further questions?”

Brex raised a finger. “This might be an absurd question, but did they take out the carpet?”

This time Demar let out a snort as he tried to hide a small laugh. “It might sound absurd Lieutenant, but it is a valid question these days.”

“The carpet is fully intact and even brand new,” Clara replied. “Thankfully the beige motif has been retired.”

Brex nodded, unconsciously rubbing his lower back. “Good because I was on one of the new Echelon classes a few weeks back and I tripped over a hyperspanner and let me tell you, hitting that bare metal hurts something awful. My back is still hurting even after their doc patched me up.”

V’Rel turned to look at him, disgust on her face. “You feel down and it still hurts weeks late? Damn cadet doctors don’t know how to do shit right.” The Caitian stood, motioning Brex to follow. “Come on lieutenant, I’ll get you fixed up.”

Brex didn’t look entirely comfortable with the situation, glancing at Myers.

Clara nodded, holding back a smile. V’Rel could be gruff in how she spoke to her patients, but there was little doubt that she did amazing work. “With that, you all are dismissed. Your PADDs have your quarter assignments on them. Move things over, tour the ship, and get a feel for it. Hopefully our first few weeks out of the dock will be a little quieter this time.” She pointed at Conklin and then Demar. “Not you two. Please stick around, Commanders.”

The two men nodded and stepped back, allowing the rest of the staff to shuffle out. 

“I won’t take much of your time gentlemen.” Clara turned to Conklin. “Commander, I would like you to serve as my second officer on the Galaxy.” She’d served with Alex for nearly a decade and considered him one of, if not her closest, friend. The gap in their ages had done little to slow down their friendship and while she’d never admit it to his face, Alex had helped keep her young over the years. His professionalism could use some work, along with doing better at not getting caught up in the moment, but he was a brilliant science officer and had little desire to add a fourth pip to his collar. She also trusted him to speak his mind, and honestly at that, when dealing with her and Demar. She was also hopeful that some of Alex’s personality would rub off on Demar and help bring him into his own. There was a good executive officer in there, she knew it, and he just needed to get out of his head.

Alex, for his part, didn’t hide his surprise. “Me, ma’am? I’m honored you would consider me but you know I don’t want to sit in the center chair. Wouldn’t it be better to have someone interested in the command track take this position?”

Clara shook her head. “I don’t need another commanding officer in training.” She tilted her head towards Demar for a moment. “That’s what he’s here for. I need you to keep me, both of us actually, honest and make sure we don’t get too wrapped up in the perspective of a commanding officer. You have a passion for your work that I haven’t seen anywhere else Alex; that passion may only be topped by your commitment to the ideals that Starfleet was founded upon. You’re our outside perspective. That’s something desperately needed as Starfleet is still figuring itself out.”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s high praise, coming from you. I.” He paused for another few moments. “Accept, ma’am”

Clara grinned. “Wonderful. I need to get onto Galaxy to meet with Broheth and Commander Vane. My first order to the both of you is to spend a little non-work time together. Get to know each other without a T’Kon virus doing its best to kill all of us; I need my command staff to work well with each other.” She glanced at Demar. “Buy him that drink you promised him on Beol II, that’s a good place to start.”

She caught the slightest flush rise on Conklin’s cheeks before turning on her heels, smiling as she left the room.

Alex glanced up at Demar. Demar glanced down at Alex. The two remained in an awkward and silent staring contest for a few moments before Alex broke the silence. 

“Um. Well. I.” Alex paused and collected a string of works together in his head. “You don’t have to buy me a drink or anything. Have you had lunch? Lunch would work. There is this nice cafe on 72 that is in the Arboretum.” Alex watched as Geden’s shoulders tensed up and his body stiffened slightly; just about the same response he had to Alex speaking to him on Beol II.

“I have not had lunch. That would be.” He caught himself from saying acceptable, which sounded beyond rude when he said it in his head. “Nice.” He did his best to let to tension in his upper body melt away and only mildly succeeded at it. He gave Alex a small smile and took a few steps back. “If you know where it’s located, I’ll let you lead the way.”

Alex nodded, grateful that the first step in the awkward dance of trying to befriend his colleague had been accomplished. 

V’Rel continued to root around the drawer of medical tools; one of the sickbay nurses hovering behind her nervously.

“Doctor, if you tell me what you need I can get it for you. Regulations do stipulate that visiting doctors need to defer to base staff for any treatments.”

V’Rel shot the Andorian man a look. “I have been practicing medicine for longer than you’ve been alive, I can handle this. Go and treat someone who needs your help.” With that she turned back to the drawer, pushing aside various tools until she found what she needed. 

She had brought Lieutenant Brex here without bothering to alert the medical staff, which was something of a common courtesy if you wished to treat a patient when you weren’t on staff. V’Rel didn’t particularly care; she had a patient, he needed treatment, and she could administer it. End of story. Someone else had already tried a few weeks back and failed miserably.

She turned to Brex, osteo-reginerator in hand. “Alright Lieutenant, shirt off and lay on your stomach.”

Brex’s eyes widened for a moment before he undid the hidden snaps on his upper uniform shirt, removing it from his upper body before pulling off the back undershirt and stretching out on the biobed. “You sure you can fix it without running me through the scanner?”

V’Rel let out a dismissive grunt. “Of course. We might have all this technology but a few old-fashioned techniques still have their place. You can have all the knowledge in the world about anatomy and medicine but when you rely on technology instead of. going hands-on once in a while, you lose something.” She placed a hand on the man’s lower back, pressing in at a specific angle. She had long ago learned how to manipulate tissue and keep her claws retracted at the same time, but even at this angle it was tricky. She had a suspicion that a particular muscle and ligament had been strained or even outright damaged based on how the Lieutenant described his pain. If she got the angle right she’d easily be able to feel the swelling. 

Brex let out a sigh. “If you say so, doc. Technology and I are best friends but I’ll go with what you say.”

“Smart choice.” She angled her hand just a few more degrees and pressed in further, instantly feeling a region of swelling and knotting. “Got it, just like I thought.”

Brex jerked as pain shot up his back. “Shit! Yeah, I’d say you found it doc.”

“I never aim to cause pain, but discomfort is part of medicine and healing. People forget that these days.” She said, disinterestedly switching the osteo-regenerator on. “You likely tore a ligament that attaches to a long muscle in your lower back. The last doctor probably aimed to soothe the muscle but left the ligament alone. I think the Betazoids call it the coclacostium banroum muscle. Humans call it the Iliocostalis lumborum. Vulcans call it something I can’t begin to pronounce. The main muscle runs all along your back, attaches to your ribs at multiple points, and ends right above the buttocks. A literal pain in the ass when it acts up. Funny how all you humanoids tend to be built nearly the same way; makes my job easier.”

Brex shrugged. “If you say so. It’s been a long time since I took an anatomy class and I skirted by with a C.”

V’Rel hummed as she placed the instrument on Brex’s lower back. “I’ll tell you a secret, almost every doctor and nurse you run into skirted by in anatomy class.”

Brex turned his head to face the Catian, an incredulous look on his face. “That doesn’t inspire much confidence here, doc.”

V’rel shrugged, focused on fine-tuning the osteo-regenerator. “Medicine is a field where it’s as much of an art as it is a science. You can’t teach the entirety of medicine in school, much like engineering. I can assure you that for as long as I have been doing this, I know where all the vital organs are and how many you’re supposed to have.”

Brex laid his head back on the table. “Still not inspiring a whole lot of confidence but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Considering you’ll be pain free by tomorrow, it’s a good idea to take what you can get right now. If it makes you feel better, I know you have one liver and you aren’t supposed to have more or less than that.” She reached over and grabbed a small patch, placing it near the osteo-regenerator. “Unless of course, you want more or less of that; one liver, two livers, no liver, whatever floats your boat. At my age I don’t care, I can keep you alive no matter what you choose.” She pressed a small control on the pad. “You’re going to feel heat, it’ll loosen things up in there.”

Brex let out a content grunt as he felt heat spread across his lower back and the pain receded into the background a bit. “I’ll keep my original configuration of livers, please, and thank you.”

“Fine with me.” V’Rel mumbled. “Less paperwork.”

A silence settled in over their small area of sickbay, the only sound being the soft beeps as V’Rel adjusted the regenerator.

“How long have you been doing this, doc?” Brex inquired. “From the way you talk, you’ve been  around awhile.”

For a few moments, there was only silence, to the point that Brex thought he had offended her, but she was just gathering her thoughts. “I graduated Starfleet Academy with my doctorate when I was 26; that was 59 years ago. I’ll let you do the math.”

Brex did the mental math for a moment. “85? That impressive doc, you don’t look a day over 60.”

He didn’t see the eye roll she gave him. “My species doesn’t show age the same way most do. Having a layer of fur has its benefits, if you care about how you look as you age. We’re just about as long lived as other humanoid species, sometimes a bit longer and we remain in fairly good health into our 90s. 

“You must have seen a few things over the last 60 years.”

V’Rel looked away from the Biobed for a moment. “I have. Some might say too much. The galaxy has been through a lot of death over the last 60 years. The Borg, the Dominion, the Cardassians, the Klingons, and countless other squabbles. I’ve seen them all, I’ve treated them all, I saved a lot of them, couldn’t save some of them. Made peace with it a long time ago. Love the days when someone comes in with nothing more than the Levodian flu.”

Brex inhaled. He wanted to ask the question but he couldn’t decide if it was the right time and place; he didn’t know the doc all that well but she didn’t seem like the type to shy away. “Can I ask you, doc, what you did to make peace with the ones you couldn’t save?”

He heard the Catian inhale sharply. “It’s difficult to quantify. Death is different in the medical world; we don’t view it with the negativity others do. We try every last thing we can to stave off death but it’s unbeatable, in the long run. I served with a nurse on the Eindhoven back in the war and she told me that every last person there was willing to go toe to toe with the reaper himself, without fear or hesitation, and drag someone back from the abyss but we had to know when to pick that particular battle. It was an overly superfluous and dramatic way of saying we fight death every day, willingly, unless it doesn’t make sense but the point stands. That changes you, Lieutenant. There are fates worse than death Mr. Brex; I’ve seen those fates too many times. It may be my job to keep people from leaving this mortal plane but it’s also my job to know when to stand back and allow them to pass beyond their mortal life. It’s a balance we doctors spend years struggling to learn.”

Brex was quiet for a moment. It was a perspective that, admittedly, sounded almost unfathomable from the outside but there was a grim logic to it. He wasn’t sure what to think of it but it was the sort of thing that needed to sink in; something to ruminate on. “Thank you, doctor. In light of recent events, I’ve struggled with the fact that so many have been lost in such a short time. I even lost a few old friends from my Academy days and it’s just been like a massive Gretnay cat laid itself on my chest and refused to move. I don’t know what to make of it, honestly.”

V’Rel turned off the regenerator, it’s beeping indicating the job was done. “You don’t have to know what to make of it right now. I have age and a unique worldview on my side, you don’t. I can offer you no real advice beyond the fact that you don’t have to figure this out on your own; there are abundant resources and people who can help you with this. I’m just not one of them.” She removed the regenerator from Brex’s back, tucking it back into the drawer near the biobed. “Sit up.”

Brex sat himself back up, his back protesting but nowhere near as much as it did before. “Thank you doc, for the treatment and the talk.”

V’Rel handed him both his uniform shirts. “That’s my job.” She turned to pick up a PADD before turning her head back around quickly. “The treatment, not the talk. I fix bones, not psyches.”

Brex chuckled as he snapped his yellow uniform overshirt back together. “Understood doc.”

She turned back around, handing him the PADD. “Discharge instructions. No exercise or strenuous activity for 48 hours. That particular regenerator is great with ligaments and the bones they attach to but isn’t particularly great for muscles so things will be tender for a bit. If you have any excess pain just find me on the Galaxy and I can give you a local analgesic.”

Brex tried to take the PADD, offering the woman a kind smile. “Thank you doc.”

She held onto the PADD for a moment longer. “And I went ahead and added a list of those resources I talked about; use them if you need them.”

He nodded, his face expressing how grateful he was. “I will doc. Thank you.” He hopped off the biobed, giving his back a small stretch. “Almost as good as new.”

“Damn right Lieutenant. I do quality work.”

He gave her a nod and made his way out of the ward.

V’Rel to a look around the large ward; like most of the wards on the Starbase it was at near full captivity. Various officers and civilians sat on the biobeds and nurses and a few doctors made their way around. A loud sneeze drew her attention to one of the beds; a Saurian woman rubbed her face as a doctor stood in front of her, looking horrified as a large amount of bright orange mucus began to drip down from her face to the top of her white lab coat.

V’Rel rolled her eyes. “I really should have retired years ago.” She muttered as she walked out of the ward.

It was a perfect day, by Terran standards anyway. Geden gazed across the lake from the table he had been seated at, squinting his eyes in the sunshine. He guessed that the environmental systems had been set up to mimic Earth and while there wasn't anything wrong with that, humans made a large portion of Starfleet after all, it was just intense enough compared to the Trill sun that Geden always felt slightly blinded, particularly around water. 

He reached up and adjusted the patio umbrella attached to the table, shifting it just enough to block the direct light on the table. He let out a contented sigh now that he had been covered in the dark shade. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Conklin stepping down onto the pier section of the cafe seating. He gave the other man a short wave, quickly realizing that Alex was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans while he stood there wearing his full uniform. Granted he had been on duty before this but suddenly he felt very overdressed.

“Good afternoon, Geden.” Alex sat down at the table, spreading the napkin across his lap. “I hope this works for lunch; it's quickly become one of my favorite places to eat on the station. A bit of advice though, if you see a Bolian coming around to the tables, don't ask him for any recommendations.” Alex scrunched his face up, clearly reliving a not-so-pleasant experience. “He runs a great cafe but will try and recommend you order something foul; good guy though.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Geden opened the expansive menu that had been sitting on the table. “And this location is fine; I'll never argue with getting some time in nature these days” Geden glanced up. “Even if it's artificial.”

Alex gave him a small smile, opening his menu. “Same. My first assignment out of the Academy was as a botanist; I miss being able to go out into the sun as part of my job.”

Geden looked over the menu, trying to find something light. “I was in stellar cartography, so I rarely got to see anything outside of the astrometrics lab.” That was a lie. He had been a junior stellar cartographer but he wished he had spent most of his time in astrometrics. He couldn't tell Alex any of that; that first, horrific, mission he had after the academy was still very well classified. Even Myers had no idea what happened and he was happy to keep it that way.

“Ah, I never would have been able to do that. I was a nature kid growing up. I was always outside digging into something; pretty sure I was the only three year old with a tan in that colony.” Alex caught sight of one of his favorite dishes on the menu. “Ah, there it is. I should expand my palate but I can't bring myself to get anything else here.”

Geden had been half-listening, his brain caught up in memories of his first assignment. He had spent years learning techniques to keep those memories at bay but they still snuck by from time to time. He cleared his throat softly, bringing himself back into the present. “Nothing wrong with that, can't say I'm all that adventurous at restaurants I like.”

One of the waiters stopped by the table, ordering PADD in hand. “Good afternoon gentlemen. What can I get for you?”

“I'll have the grakizh salad.” Geden folded his menu back up, handing it to her. “Prakismon dressing on the side, please.”

She nodded, tapping a few things into her PADD. “And for you, sir?”

“I will have the fire roasted half chicken with the garlic sauteed green beans and rosemary potatoes.”

She nodded, adding in the order and taking the menu. “That'll be out shortly for you.”

With that, she walked away and the two men sat in awkward silence for no less than five minutes, if Alex was keeping track of time correctly.

“Sorry, I'm not good at the whole socialization aspect of life.” Geden shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I never would have guessed.” Alex said it was a half smile, hoping the light teasing would ease things. “I think Captain Myers is hoping my sparkling personality will help you open up and relax a bit more.”

Geden let out a small chuckle. “Starfleet's very best counselors weren't able to make it happen but you're more than welcome to take a crack at it.”

Alex let the comment pass without remark. From their time on Beol II and their interactions now it wasn't difficult to figure out there was something in his past that had caused him to retreat from everything and maybe one day they would be on a level of comfortability where he could ask the Trill about it but now was not the time. 

“You mentioned your first assignment was stellar cartography. Any particular reason why you chose that field.”

Geden shrugged. “I showed an aptitude for it. I also wasn't interested in the more nature-based sciences; I only spent time outside as a kid when I went swimming and even then by the time I was in what Humans would consider high school I only kept swimming so I could have some sort of sports extracurricular on my application to the Academy.” He took a sip of the water the waitress had placed on the table. “I was this tall, skinny, gangly teenager with a bowel cut who hated running so swimming was about all I could muster up.”

Alex let out a snort. The thought of the man in front of him as a skinny, gangly, kid was legitimately amusing. Gedan was easily 6' 5" by Alex's guess and while the uniform was exactly the most complimentary fit, it was clear the Trill was physically fit; muscled but not bulky. He would also admit the Commander was ridiculously good looking, in his opinion anyway, but he'd keep that to himself. He wouldn't even mention that to Clara, though after nearly 10 years of friendship, he would guess that she would figure that out on her own.

“Sorry, the mental image of you as some gangly kid with a bowel cut is a tad bit funny. You are very much not that now.” He took a sip of his water, hoping the compliment came off as benign. “I did track in middle school and wrestling in high school, so I was this short, bulky kid who also spent most of his time outside poking at plants. Tended to be an odd sight. Now I just lift weights and run; though there is a sport I can't pronounce on Androia that is about as close to wrestling as you can get but much more stylistic. I do that from time to time.”

Geden glanced over Conklins top half; his t-shirt not hiding the bulky muscle beneath. “I could never do that; swimming is so calm and peaceful. Me, my thoughts, and the water.”

“I think you'd like that Andorian sport. It's almost like an elaborate dance but wrestling. Sheer strength won't win you a match. It's hard to describe. I tell you what, you show me how peaceful swimming is and I'll show you have energizing that unpronounceable sport is.” Hopefully, that was something the Trill would take him up on. He did genuinely seem like someone he could be friends with; the little glimpses of what was underneath the awkward exterior gave him hope.

Geden felt his upper body stiffen as anxiety crept up again. The times he went swimming were times he could slip away from the world, from duty, the time he used to calm and center himself. He rarely invited people into that space. Still, it was clear the Conklin was making a genuine attempt to be friendly and they had to work together for the long run. He could survive a few laps in the pool with someone else. He wasn't sure he'd survive that Andorian wrestling though.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Alex grinned like a kid who had just been given the last piece of candy in the quadrant. “Great! Things are pretty busy ahead of departure but I'm sure we'll have time once we are underway.”

The waitress walked up to the table, depositing the food in front of them. While Geden's salad was large and was exactly what he wanted at the moment, he did feel some regret while he looked at Alex's food. The delicious smell coming from it was practically sinful. 

Both men cleared their plates rather quickly. The grakizh salad was a big step above replicated food but he could tell the ingredients hadn't been grown on Trill soil; considering how often he ate basic replicated food, Geden wasn't going to argue. Judging from the noises Alex had made while eating he had zero complaints about his meal.

Alex dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. “Thank you for indulging me, Commander. I can come off a little overenthusiastic and I know we didn't get off on the best foot on Beol II but I do think we'll have a good working relationship.”

Gedne placed his napkin on the table. “No need to thank me. I should thank you. I know I'm not the most sociable person. I'm working on that and I did enjoy the lunch. Perhaps we should keep a standing appointment for lunch on the ship?”

The ‘grin of a kid who had just been given the last piece of candy in the quadrant’ returned to Alex's face. “I'd like that Geden.” He glanced down at the chronometer built into the table. “Damn it, I'm going to be late. I have to meet with like 8 science division junior department heads because apparently, I have a staff of 137 now.” He stood, giving Geden a half wave.

Geden returned the wave with a smile and turned to face the lake once Alex had left. He reached up and moved the table umbrella back, letting the artificial sun hit his skin. 

Perhaps he'd sit back and enjoy the sunshine for just a little while longer.

The distinctive whining hum of the transporter activating filled the room moments before the shimmering column of blue light deposited Captain Clara Myers on the transporter pad. She stepped down, extending her hand to greet the woman before her.

“It's a pleasure to meet you finally, Commander Vane.”

Vane reached forward, returning the handshake. “Welcome aboard Galaxy, ma'am.”

Clara looked around the room, taking in her first few moments on the ship. She knew she was in the stardrive section as the room was decked out in cool grey and blue tones. The refit to the ship had been extensive; nearly every panel, computer terminal, door, and carpet had been replaced and upgraded to ‘modern’ standards. It wasn't quite at the level of the new Constitutions or Sagans but it was a far leap from the previous stylings of the 2360s.

“Thank you, Commander.” 

Vane turned towards the door. "If you'll follow me, I'll escort you to engineering.

Clara nodded, following the women out of the room. The corridor was still a mess with panels off the walls as the dock engineers put the finishing touches on everything. “Your team does impressive work, Commander. You would barely recognize this as a Galaxy Class ship from the inside.” 

Vane pulled a PADD from her coat pocket. “Thank you, Captain. Galaxy was the first ship I served on after I graduated before I moved to the Challenger as Chief Engineer. All in all, I spent 17 years on Galaxy Class ships. It's been quite the honor to oversee her 50-year refit.”

The two women approached the end of the corridor, Myers pressing the turbolift call button. “It shows, Commander. I'm told the upgrades are quite impressive.”

Vane handed Myers the PADD as the two stepped into the lift. “Engineering.” The door closed and the lift took off. “See for yourself. We stripped down the corridors to the bulkhead substructure to accommodate the new Isolinear-Bioneural computer systems, we widened most of the corridors in all sections at the same time, and the new computer cores are 7% more responsive and can store 11% more data. We completely overhauled the M/ARM core to incorporate the new mark XX magnetic injectors, recoated her warp coils with the more concentrated form of verterium cortenide that they use on the Soverigns and we strengthened the dilithium matrix articulation frame. Her spaceframe limitations won't allow for an increase in maximum speed but high-speed travel should be less stressful on the warp system components. Then there are the EPS network upgrades but I'll let your Chief Engineer go over that.”

Myers scrolled through the PADD as the turbolift slowed to a stop. Virtually every single system on the ship had been touched on. Every single sensor pallet had been replaced. Transporter systems upgraded to the new standard. Completely new bridge module. Sickbay was gutted and expanded to almost an entire deck in the saucer section. Crew quarters expanded to allow for better long term comfort. Like many ships of her class Galaxy had had numerous ‘empty’ spaces that could be filled in if needed but now every single inch of the ship had been outfitted. Increased probe storage, enhanced replication facilities, and expanded shuttle maintenance facilities. Galaxy was ready to venture into deep space and stay there for quite some time.

The two stepped out of the lift and walked down a large corridor, bobbing and weaving between the shipyard staff. “This is beyond impressive, Commander. Not many people would take this much care on a nearly 50 year old spaceframe.”

The two stopped outside the large doors marked MAIN ENGINEERING. “Galaxy holds a special place with me. I know this ship, hell, I know the class itself, inside and out. I know what her quirks were and how to fix them or at least work around them. Every ship under my care will receive the best treatment but Galaxy is one where I will always oversee every inch of work done on her." She pointed a finger a Myers. “So bring her back in one piece, every time, understood?”

Myers nodded. “I promise the ship is in good hands. Knowing Lieutenant Commander Broheth, he would never forgive himself if the ship didn't stay in one piece. I would guess he's rather excited.”

“Like a kid in a candy store. Come one.”

The two stepped through the doors and into the loud room. Engineers occupied nearly every station, all talking over each other. The gentle hum of the warp core reverberated through the room. Main Engineering itself hadn't changed all that much from its original design but it was more open now on each side, the area around the warp core had more space to maneuver, the upper level was slightly larger and the pool table that was iconic to the Galaxy class was still there but larger with a holo display of the ship floating about it. It was at the pool table that Myers saw Broheth huddled with this staff.

“The EPS junction on Deck 12, section 882 is down again. Just replace the junction with a new manifold. Not worth the effort to repair it for a fourth time.” The Bolian turned and saw Vane and Myers walking into the engineering complex, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Captain! Welcome to engineering!”

He walked over to meet the two. “Thank you for requesting me for Chief Engineer. This ship is absolutely an engineer's dream.”

“Of course, Commander. I also knew the only way I'd get you to stick around is if you got to serve on a ship like Galaxy.”

Broheth laughed loudly, leading against the MSD. “You are right about that Captain. To think I was convinced that being on the Amundsen was going to just be a quick little trip around the block. Now I get to serve on one of the biggest ships in the fleet. Nothing better than this.”

“We went the long way around, but it all seemed to work out. Commander V'Rel probably disagrees with you but I think we'll get her to come around.”

Broheth waved a blue hand around. “Give me two weeks and I'll have her singing karaoke in the Sombrero Lounge.”

Myers paused. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be there for that but at the same time, she wasn't sure that was something she was willing to miss. She'd have to remind the lounge manager to keep that real alcohol drinks to a minimum on that night. 

Vane cleared her throat. “Lieutenant Commander, what is the status of the ship?”

Broheth immediately straightened up, a sheepish expression on his face. It was clear that this was not the first time Vane had to keep the enthusiastic engineer on track.

“The warp core has passed all simulation testing. The new warp coils have been energized to 28% with no issues, can't do much more than that while in dock. One of the dorsal phaser strips isn't getting the power it needs to fire at full capacity but we should have the power junction causing the issues replaced by 2300. We brought all fusion plants online at 0700 this morning and as of 45 minutes ago we are no longer attached to Starbase power. There are a few hundred general maintenance bugs to work out across the ship but that is well within expectations and can be corrected on shakedown.”

Vane nodded. “Excellent work. Any issues with the new EPS network?”

The kid in a candy store grin returned to his face. “None at all. It's a thing of beauty. It's the envy of everyone back at the SF Fleet yards. I have no idea how your team squeezed an additional 5% power efficiency out of that system. I know you spent seven months ripping out the old network and replacing it but I haven't even seen this level of work done even during my time at the fleet yards.” He walked over to the wall, pulling the panel off. The EPS junction glowed a bright blue/purple as plasma was shunted off in three different directions. "You lined this sucker with a thin layer of tetraburnium; I've never seen that before. You see, Captain, that thin layer helps protect the junction itself because this close to the warp core the plasma is still superheated and the harder we push the EPS network the more plasma we push through the network and it stresses the system; this gives us another layer of safety if we have to push the network harder. At 144 millicochranes the stress causes the underlying..."

Myers raised her hand to stop the engineer. "I assure you Mr. Broheth that once you break out the technical details involving millicochranes it will all go over my head."

He laughed again. "Fair point Captain. I'm sure you've got other things to attend to anyway."

"Yes, she does." Vane said. "Our next stop is the bridge."

The lift slowed to a stop and Vane stepped to the side. “Captain first, ma'am.”

Myers took a deep breath and stepped forward, the doors parting with a soft swish. The bridge was dark, all work being done already, and the computer automatically raised the lighting to soft levels. It was clear to see the new module was an infusion of both the Galaxy and Sovereign class. She stepped around the tall, illuminated, collums that surrounded the conference pit at the back of the bridge, passing the wooden arch that sat behind the command chairs, before standing next to the captain's chair. She looked around; it was easily the largest bridge she had ever stood on.

She placed a hand on the cool leather of the command chair, the weight of what was to come slowly and finally starting to sink in. Decades of strife, death, and isolation had marked the Federation and Starfleet. A never ending cycle that had robbed them of their ability to see the galaxy as a place of wonder, their ability to adhere to the principles that the Federation had been founded on. Galaxy was just one ship among hundreds but she'd be damned if she was going to let the opportunity pass by. Galaxy would show that you could still venture out into the unknown, that the wonders of the universe were not to be feared but uncovered and embraced. 

She gave the back command chair a soft squeeze. It was time to get to work.